Dark Eyes (30 page)

Anyway, it was absurd to imagine how she could possibly sleep with the images now coursing through her mind: Johanna being struck down and tossed into the cab of the tow truck. The sight of her best friend, Tevin, dead and alone on the tarmac of the Navy Yard because he insisted she leap the fence first. Dead, in defense of her, the same boy she had slept with just two nights before. Was he still lying there on the ground of the Navy Yard, even now? Or had he been removed, shipped off to a cold slab at the city morgue?

Wally knew that all these tragedies had taken place because of her, because she had placed the goal of finding her mother above every other concern, and when that moment had finally arrived, it was a disaster. But Johanna was still out there, somewhere, and still alive. Wally needed to focus not on the past but on what would happen next. Any hope for saving Johanna seemed to hinge on Claire. She claimed to know where the two men would be going with Johanna and seemed determined to do what she could to save her. This of all things was no surprise; over the course of Wally’s life, Claire had proved that she would willingly sacrifice herself to protect someone she loved.

Oh no
, Wally thought, struck by a sudden realization.

Wally bolted out of the shower, running out of the bathroom and back into the apartment. The place was silent and empty. Wally cursed herself. Still naked and dripping wet, Wally jumped to the front door and flung it open, revealing an empty hallway.

“SHIT!” Wally grabbed the house phone and the doorman downstairs immediately picked up the line.

“Miss Stoneman?”

“She’s gone?” Wally barked into the phone. “My mother left the building?”

“Well …yes, Miss Stoneman. About five or six minutes ago.”

“She took the car?”

“Yes, she did. Is there anything I can—” Wally threw down the phone in a rage and stomped around the living room, pacing in circles, directionless and frantic. “Shit!” It was a few moments before Wally noticed the single piece of notepaper on the dining room table, held there in place by a small glass paperweight. The note read:

You’ll be safe here, Wally. Im sorry and I love you, more than I can ever say, or prove. Love, Mom.

“Shit!” Wally shouted again, then retrieved the phone she had thrown to the floor. She hit the speak button and heard the dial tone.
Good
, she hadn’t broken it. Wally dialed Claire’s cell phone number, but after seven or eight rings the call was patched over to Claire’s voice mail. Wally hung up and redialed three times until Claire finally picked up. …

“Wally …”

“Mom! Whatever you’re doing—”

“Wally—”

“No! This is MY life, Mom! I made this happen! This is something for me to fix. Tell me where you’re going.”

“No, Wally. I’m sorry. I love you.” And then Claire hung up her line.

“DAMN IT!” Wally hollered to the empty apartment; she barely resisted hurling the phone down again. Instead she hit redial once again, but now the line went straight to voice mail; Claire had turned off her phone.

Wally paced through the apartment, frantically trying to think through the problem. As her mind spun the possibilities, she went to her room and put on some jeans and a turtleneck, readying herself to head out into the night as soon as she had figured out what to do, what move to make next. She realized that she would have to calm down if she had any hope of solving the problem.

She took several deep, cleansing breaths, the way Claire had taught her when she was a frustrated, angry little girl.
Breathe in through the nose to the count of four, hold for seven seconds, then out with a whoosh to the count of eight
. After three or four of these breaths, Wally felt her thinking gradually came back into focus.

What did she know? Wally thought about the brief phone call with Claire; there had been sound in the background, but nothing specific, just a constant, relatively high level of background noise. What did that mean? Claire’s car was an Infiniti SUV, low to the ground and powerful but with good sound insulation and with a hands-free cell phone system that had noise canceling built in. To produce engine sound that noticeable, the car would have to be traveling at speed. That probably meant that Claire was not driving on city streets. No, Wally guessed that the Infiniti was on an expressway.

So, which one? Since she’d needed to get herself ready and then have the valet get the car out of the basement garage, Claire had only had a few minutes’ head start. So the road had to be a close by, no doubt the West Side Highway, but that didn’t narrow down the possible destinations really; it only suggested that she was headed away from Manhattan.

What
else
did Wally know? Not much. The more she pressed herself to think through her situation, the greater her sense that she was completely in the dark, and had been in the dark her entire
goddamn
life. Sheltered, coddled, appeased …
lied to
. Shit.

Stop being angry
, Wally silently commanded herself,
and think
.

What else did she know? She reviewed the few moments she and Claire had shared in the apartment. What else had Claire said? She had been shocked, certainly, by Wally’s hastily reconstructed news about all that she had been through that night, ending with Tevin’s death and Johanna’s abduction.

“The two of them took Johanna and now she’s gone. I don’t know where.”

Wally had grieved, the image of Johanna being thrown into the tow truck still painfully fresh in her mind.

“I know where,” Claire had replied, and it had not been a guess on her part; it had been a statement of fact. She
did
know where. What else did she say? Wally ran through their brief exchange, trying pick out anything useful but not coming up with anything. Claire had run a hot shower for Wally, and she was going to put out some clean clothes for her. Claire also said was going to make coffee, but that was obviously just a misdirection to set Wally at ease and give Claire time to get away.

“We have time,” Claire had said confidently.
We have time?
How could that be? The men had taken Johanna away and were guaranteed to hurt her if she did not give them exactly what they wanted. Obviously, Klesko was convinced that there was still some money and stones remaining from the cache that Yalena had taken from him. Where had they been kept all these years? A bank? Some sort of storage facility? Either of those might explain the “we have time” comment; a bank vault or storage facility would operate on a preset schedule, accessible only at a certain hour the next morning. That made sense. Claire must have known exactly where the remaining stones were kept and when they would be accessible.

How could Wally figure out where that hiding place was?

Wally continued her frantic pacing, trying to stimulate some sort of eleventh-hour epiphany. She had only one thought and picked up the phone again, hitting redial.

“Yes, Miss Stoneman?” came the doorman’s voice.

“Raoul? Sorry I hung up before …”

“That’s okay, Miss Stoneman.”

“Can you tell me what was my mom was wearing?”

“Uh …” The doorman considered, then answered uncertainly. “A jacket, I think? A warm one? And a cap. Boots, maybe?”

“Thanks, Raoul.” Wally hit the end button on the phone. Claire’s choice of outdoor clothing did not suggest a bank or other indoor location like a storage locker. As she ran through the possibilities, Wally had a thought. She was staring at the portable phone in her hand. The LED panel was lit up with the last number called: the phone number of the desk downstairs. Wally hit the down arrow button and the screen scrolled down to the list of the numbers called last, past the calls Wally herself had made to Raoul at the front desk. Wally saw the number listed for the last phone call Claire had made—she had called outside the building just five minutes before she left. The phone number looked vaguely familiar, but it took a minute or so before Wally finally recognized the area code and then the full phone number. Wally herself had dialed that number just a few days earlier. She hit redial and the phone rang through. Voice mail picked up on the other end of the line and a message played. Now Wally knew where Claire had gone and where Johanna would be found.

Wally went to her room and quickly dressed in warm clothes, including Tevin’s jacket and the good boots she had found in the Quonset hut. Once she was ready to go, a quick calculation told her she had time to make one important stop before driving north to Shelter Island.

THIRTY-ONE

Ella and Jake
heard the key in the lock and bolted up from their makeshift bed. They didn’t dare use their flashlight to see who it was, for fear of giving themselves away in case it was not either Wally or Tevin, coming home.

“Guys?” Wally’s voice, quiet.

“In here, Wally,” Ella said.

Wally moved into the back room of the old laundry, where an ancient steam-press bench had been left behind and where the crew had set up their bedrolls. Ella and Jake greeted Wally, sleepy-eyed.

“What time is it?” Ella asked with a little yawn.

“Just after two,” said Wally.

“You were gone so long,” Ella said. She studied Wally for a second, noticing that she was wearing Tevin’s jacket. “Where’s Tevin?”

Wally hesitated. She used her flashlight to dig around and find the bag of cheap tea candles they had bought at a discount import store. She lit three candles, which gave the room a warm, flickering glow.

“Where’s Tevin, Wally?” Jake asked warily, sensing something ominous in Wally’s manner. On the drive there from Claire’s apartment, Wally struggled over what she would tell Ella and Jake about Tevin.

“He’s gone,” Wally said finally, because she knew no other way. “Tevin is dead.”

Ella and Jake stared at Wally in disbelief, needing a moment to process her words. Silent tears began to stream down Ella’s face, while her features remained frozen.

“What?”
Jake looked like he had been kicked in the gut.

“Those men …” Wally said. “We went to a place to find my mother, and they were there.”

“
Oh no …”
Now Ella shook her head, almost violently, trying her hardest to deny what she was hearing.

“Tevin protected me.”

“Of course he did. This was all for you, Wally,” Jake suddenly blurted, enraged. “This was your own private party. You should never’ve taken him with you.”

“I know.”

She kept herself as emotionless as she could, refusing to cry, not allowing herself the privilege of grieving with her friends precisely because she was the one responsible for this terrible thing.

“He loved you, Wally,” Jake went on, caught between sorrow and anger. “Is this how you love people back?”

“Jake, stop it …” Ella pleaded with him, grabbing him by the arm. “She didn’t mean it. …”

“And all for what?” Jake would not be dissuaded. “Did you get what you wanted? Did you find her?”

Wally paused before answering, feeling ashamed. “Yes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake almost laughed. “How’d she stack up? Was it a good trade?”

“Jake!” Ella pulled at him.

“Damn it!”
Jake shouted. He jumped up and kicked at the plasterboard wall, caving it in again and again and then punching it with his bare fists as well, a dozen violent strikes at least, until he was exhausted and gasping for air. Overcome, Jake dropped back down to the floor and buried his head in his arms, his body trembling. Ella slumped beside him and wrapped him in a tight embrace. For several minutes Wally kept her distance, allowing them their grief, then sat down beside them on the floor. She reached out carefully and laid her hand on Jake’s back. He sobbed as he felt her touch. After a moment, Wally spoke.

“I could never explain how sorry I am,” she said.

They did not answer, and after a moment Wally continued.

“The thing is,” Wally said, “I’ve been lying about something, to myself and to you. The lie was that we were all in the same situation, but that’s bullshit. You two—and Tevin—you’ve been through so many hard things in your lives. I was feeling sorry for myself and pretending that it was the same for me, but it wasn’t. I’ve had some pain, but I’ve been loved and supported too, and had so many advantages. I don’t really understand why I’ve made the choices I have, but it’s time for me to put things in order, you know?”

“We’ve been a family,” Ella said. “That was never a lie.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Wally said. She looked hopefully at Jake, hoping to see some sign that he might forgive her, eventually. He managed a small, sympathetic smile, and Wally smiled back gratefully. She reached into her bag and pulled out a letter-size envelope, setting it down in front of them.

“There’s two thousand dollars in here,” Wally said. “That’s for both of you. You know Lois Chao, at Harmony House? She’s been telling me for a long time about this place upstate, called Neversink Farm. It’s a bus ride, maybe three or four hours. The directions are inside there with the money. It’s a different kind of residential setup—a working farm. You help out around the farm and do a couple of hours of school every day so you can get a GED.” Wally paused. “I’m not telling you what to do, but it’s a chance for you both to start again. The money is yours, for a nest egg, for whatever.”

Ella and Jake didn’t know what to say, not sure at first whether they were being given a gift or brushed aside. The two shared a look for a moment, and Wally thought she could see a sense of relief pass between the two of them, a sense of willingness to give themselves over to something new and hopeful.

“What about you?” Ella asked.

“I have to see this through,” she said, struggling not to break down. “Just me. I’m already responsible for what happened to Tevin. If anything happened to either of you …”

Ella reached out and took Wally’s hand, holding it close to her. Wally squeezed her hand back, grateful. She checked the time on her phone.

“I can take a few minutes,” Wally said to Ella. “Let’s do our thing?”